


Call Me Maybe

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: 5 times plus 1 scenario, M/M, Not SUPER mature but kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 13:46:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five (hideously inopportune) times Tony propositioned Steve for sex, and one time Steve got him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Me Maybe

**(1)**

 

Steve had never been fond of the cellphone thrust into his hands nearly moments after he was righted and on his feet in the new millennium. It was a bit large, and the red, white, and blue colorings were in his evidently irrelevant opinion  _tacky_ . The 'touch screen' only worked half the other time and the other half of the time worked poorly. The contraption was nothing but another thing to grate on Steve's nerves, not helped by his boyfriend's incessant need to call him  _constantly_ .

 

“ _What_ do you _want_?” Steve snapped, uncharacteristically angry. Tony simply hummed back.

 

“You never get that angry normally. Do you think you could bring that fury into the bedroom? It'd be hot.” Tony replied as though his casual, conversational tone accompanied his words perfectly.

 

“Tony,” Steve growled in light, ever so light warning. Ever a Stark, though, Tony wasn't deterred.

 

“So how's Canada?”

 

“Fine.” He answered through gritted teeth. He was in Ontario as part of a conference, a comic book signing and a meeting with someone who evidently wanted to ask for his permission to instigate a 'Captain Canada.' (To which he was bracing himself to say no.)

 

“Doesn't sound fine.” There was a rustling before Tony carried on, “do you miss me?”

 

Steve sighed, anger fleeting just a bit. “Of course.”

 

Tony preened and made sure it translated. “Wonderful.”

 

“You're awful.”

 

“I know, and you love it and you're stuck with me.”

 

Steve shook his head, laughing. “Is there a reason you called?” Steve wanted to slap himself silly for relaxing so easily, but Tony's laid back feel, everything about Tony seeped into Steve when they were around each other.

 

“I'm horny.” Tony said back to him, as though it were clear as day and normal.

 

Steve spluttered, sitting up abnormally straight in his seat. “Tony!” He forced an overdone scandalized tone onto his words, thrusting them at Tony.

 

“What? It's true. We're _boyfriends_ aren't we? You're supposed to help with these sort of things.”

 

Steve looked around, unsure and uncomfortable and the conversation, he could tell, was only beginning. “Can't you just ma-masturbate or something?” He whispered, harsh and face blushing vibrant.

 

“Where's the fun in that?” Tony practically _purred_. “You've been gone too long.” He murmured, voice sultry and unsuited for the clean pressed suit Steve had been man handled into for the meeting that was scheduled for—oh _God_ , two minutes. “Steve, come on. Indulge me a little.”

 

“That's your problem, Tony, you _always_ get indulged.”

 

Steve could practically see the grin that accompanied his taunting laugh. “I know.”

 

“Tony, I really can't—!”

 

“Come on, just a little thing, just something. Am I getting you hard? Are you thinking about me? On our bed, fingering myself—?”

 

How could Steve refuse that? “God, Tony,  _yes_ , okay? You're so hot and I am thinking of you—?” The door creaked open, and people began to file into the conference room. “Tony, I have to go.”

 

“No, no, come on the fun's just getting started,”

 

“Tony, seriously—!”

 

“Uh, Mr.. Captain Rogers? We're ready to begin.”

 

“I know, I'm sorry ma'am, just a moment,” he hastily ducked his head. “Tony I will call you back I _swear_. But this is business.”

 

“Steve—!”

 

“ _Goodbye_ , Tony. Love you.”

 

There's a huff and even as he pulls away to hang up, he can hear Tony's exasperated 'love you too'. Steve is mildly miffed considering if either of them should be exasperated, it's Steve himself. But he can't dwell on it because the meeting is in fact starting and even though he's achingly hard in his pants, business is business.

 

—

 

**(2)**

 

Steve had Clint pinned, arm pressed against his neck hard enough to probably bruise but not quite hard enough to choke. Besides, this had all been Clint's idea—he wanted a better vantage on people like Steve (so, superhumans, essentially) and had all but bribed Steve to spar with him, holding nothing back. Of course this meant that without weapons Clint was unmatched, often, and they continuously ended like this or something similar.

 

Clint was scrambling for traction on the mats or on Steve's body, something,  _anything_ to throw him off—when Steve's phone, safe in his pocket, began to ring. Clint ignored it, and still struggled against the one arm and entire body weight of Steve pinning him; Steve, however, recognized the ACDC ringtone and brought it to his ear.

 

“What is it, Tony?”

 

“Well that seems like an awfully harsh way to great your boyfriend.”

 

“You don't care, and I'm in the middle of sparring.”

 

“With Natasha? Cop a feel for me.”

 

Steve pulled back from his phone and looked affronted, pressing harder as Clint dared to let out a bark of a laugh. “No, with Clint.”

 

“Cop one anyways.”

 

“No thanks,” he snapped, to Tony's amusement. “What do you want?” He implored, wrestling for a moment with Clint as he tried to get up, taking advantage of the new distraction.

 

“Miami is boring.”

 

“You've only been there for a few hours!”

 

“It's _boring_.” Tony snarked back, firm.

 

“Well I'm _sorry_.” Steve grumbled, flipping Clint into his back, trapping one arm between Clint's chest and the floor, the other pressed against his back with one hand.

 

“Sounds pretty intense over there.”

 

“It's sparring, Tony—?” Steve answered in a warning tone. (A tone he seemed to use a lot.)

 

Tony simply cut him off with an innocent hum. “I miss you,” he replied, surprisingly tender.

 

Steve pauses, and Clint almost gets the jump on him except the arm trapped to the floor is definitely numb, which means he isn't going anywhere. “I miss you too, Tony.” He smiled.

 

“I want you to fuck me.”

 

Steve scrambled to keep hold of his phone and keep Clint pinned. “Damnit, Tony!”

 

“C'mon,” and that was definitely a whine, a keen it could even be called. “Just tell me how you want me, what you'd do to me.”

 

“Honestly, Tony, this is ridiculous.”

 

“I'm on the hotel bed right now, you know. The Stark Penthouse Suite. I've got that one tie you bought me on, and nothing else,” there's a sharp gasp, “you were all I could think about in the stupid meeting.”

 

Steve's mouth ran dry and he couldn't think of a single thing to say.

 

“Want you inside me, fucking me; wanna ride you, oh god Steve—!”

 

Steve was glad he'd shoved Clint's face into the mat to keep his dignity. However, his plan backfired when Clint shouted, though muffled by said mat, “You know, I can  _feel_ your dick and I'm not exactly  _okay_ with that!”

 

Steve thought it safe to say he'd never been so mortified in his life.

 

—

 

**(3)**

 

Steve wasn't entirely sure how Tony had gotten out of helping with this particular world disaster, but he had and was, obviously, not there to help 'beat the bad guys.' However, whatever had prevented him from showing up to the battle was evidently  _not_ harsh enough to disable his ability to make lewd phonecalls.

 

Tony's voice crackled in Steve's ear. “Hi.”

 

“Kinda busy right now, Tony.” Steve snapped, ducking and bringing his shield up for a nasty uppercut into the jaw of yet another robot.

 

“Oh I know.”

 

“If you _know_ then why are you calling?” 

 

“Take a wild guess, cowboy.”

 

Steve stopped dead, shield returning to his hand after making two distinctly sharp turns and taking out six other robots. “Tony. Don't you even dare.”

 

“Do you know,” he paused for effect, “how wonderful fleece sheets feel when you're naked?”

 

“Tony.”

 

“Oops, there's that voice of yours.”

 

“That voice of mine?” Steve parroted, narrowly avoiding a laser.

 

“That voice of yours,” Tony confirmed, “that always means I'm in trouble.” Except there was nothing remorseful about the way Tony spoke—instead, his voice remained heated and lusting. “We should test out spanking when you get home. I'll bend over your knee...” He trailed off, and for those few moments, Steve was free of distractions. “Or, you know, if it revs your motor I could always pretend to be a sergeant and tell you what a naughty soldier you are.”

 

Were it any other time or place, Steve probably would've laughed. But, given the fact he'd been so caught up in Tony's words he'd allowed himself to get knocked back twenty or thirty feet by a nasty right hook from a robot.

 

“Tony,”

 

“Yes, Steve?” He was eager, all coy and pleased with himself.

 

“Not now.”

 

—

 

**(4)**

 

“For the love of God, Tony. Do you realize what time it is here?”

 

“Well it's eight am where I am so I figured it was a safe bet that it's the same with you.”

 

“You're safe bet is wrong, Tony. Goodnight.”

 

He hung up before Tony could protest and persuade him—which, he would do, Steve knew that for certain. He knew, however much of his pride it took to admit it, that Tony could easily seduce him no matter the hour of the day.

 

Steve had just began to doze again when his phone started to buzz obnoxiously on his bedside table. But not the sort of prolonged buzz that came with a phonecall—oh no, this was rapid, continuous bursts of buzzing that meant Tony had resorted to texts.

 

_**Thinking about you** _

 

_**Want you so much, Europe sucks.** _

 

_**None of the men here are as pretty as you. I found a strip club based off the Avengers and the man playing you is a shameful imitation.** _

 

_**I told him as much, naturally.** _

 

For a few brief moments, Steve was inexplicably in love with the crazy man texting him, he simply couldn't help it.

 

_**I miss your dick.** _

 

_**Sorry, that was tactless.** _

 

_**But it's true.** _

 

_**I want you in my mouth. You know what 69ing is, right? If not tell Jarvis in the morning. Don't worry he's a computer you don't need to get embarrassed because I know you would use that as an excuse.** _

 

Steve can't help texting back a half-hearted response, urging his boyfriend to stop.

 

_**Why? Scared mommy is gonna walk in on you touching yourself?** _

 

_**Sorry that was a bit mean.** _

 

_**Would asking you be more appropriate?** _

 

Steve rolled his eyes, but something undeniable bubbled inside him, something akin to the feeling he got when Mary-Elle Woods looked at him _that_ way, in the second grade. He rolled over, taking his phone with him and typing out, slowly, a response basica lly boiled down to yes.

 

_**May I please suck your cock, Captain Rogers?** _

 

 _ **How's that?** _ Was the response that came when Steve realized he'd been too stunned by how turned on that got him, and had failed to answer immediately.

 

 _Good_ , he replied,  _very good_ , he encouraged, feeling the previous anger bubble and fizzle and fade into pure bliss.

 

—

 

**(5)**

 

“Sir? Mr. Stark is on hold.”

 

“Tell him to screw off, we're busy in a meeting he was too busy to make.”

 

Steve leaned forward, “to be fair, sir, Tony really did have a meeting with a business branch in Seattle.”

 

“And Stark Industries is more important than a briefing?”

 

“In all honesty?” Steve prompted, “yes, absolutely.”

 

A silence fell, in shock that Steve was so boldly disagreeing with the very man who, for all intents and purposes, was 'keeping him employed.'

 

“Sir? Mr. Stark is refusing to hang up.”

 

Fury sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine, put him on.”

 

There's a click, a bing, and some crackling before Ton spoke. “Is Steve there?”

 

“Yes, because unlike _some_ people—?”

 

“Yes, Tony, I'm here.”

 

“Great, wonderful, awesome.” There's a distinct sound of air rushing around. “So, how do you feel about getting married?”

 

Steve stared at the intercom. “What.”

 

“Marriage, you know,” he began to whistle the tell tale theme, “except there's really no bride to speak of, but you know what I mean.”

 

“Tony, that's.. wow.”

 

“Right? I mean, it's only legal in a few states, but we get a head start now and as each state gets its head outta its ass, we'll get married in each of them!”

 

Steve couldn't help his grin. “You're crazy, Tony Stark.”

 

“I'm taking that as a yes, I'll get Pepper on the line soon and she can plan it. She said one time that she always wanted to plan a wedding.”

 

“Actually I'm pretty sure she told you the one thing she wouldn't do for you was plan your wedding, but sure give it a go.”

 

“If you're finished, Stark—?”

 

“Nope not quite,” a baited silence fell again. “So, Steve, what sort of devious sexual acts do I have to bribe you with to meet me on the deck of the ship, right now?”

 

Steve blushed to his toes, he was sure, and ducked his head. “None, I'll come anyways.”

 

“C'mon! It's not as fun if you don't make me work for it!”

 

“That'll be quite enough!” Fury all but shouted, furiously (ha, a snicker circled the table as everyone seemed to think the same thing) jammed his finger on the end call button.

 

Steve, while Fury seethed at the intercom, slipped out of the room.

 

—

 

**(+1)**

 

Tony balanced a kid—no, not  _a_ kid,  _his_ kid—on his hip, humming her to sleep as he bounced around the room. She was adorable, with Steve's skin tone and the same flush; her hair was dark, like Tony's but instead had curls, like Steve would've had he long hair. She was adorable, even if she was a gigantic pain in Tony's ass. Of course, she was just an angel all the time for Steve. But not for Tony, oh no.

 

Finally, Maria's soft breathing tickled Tony's ear and he sighed almost silently with relief. She was stubborn and somehow hated to sleep—something Steve insisted she picked up from “Daddy being in the lab all the time.” He made towards her bedroom, the light already on and Steve ready and waiting with her bottle, bear, and favorite blanket.

 

Tony grinned, eyes tired, and kissed his husband briefly before laying her into the crib. “Hey,” he murmured, tucking the blanket around their daughter, and laying the bear beside her head. “Won't need this tonight,” he plucked the bottle from Steve's hands.

 

“I love you,” Steve whispered back, hands grasping Tony's hips and mouth falling to stubbled chin and neck. “You're such a good dad.”

 

Tony hummed pleasantly. “You're not half bad yourself.” He pushed at Steve's chest. “Come on, bed, now.”

 

They made it two steps from the crib when Maria began to cry, woken by absolutely nothing. Tony bit the inside of his cheek, half tempted to call in the Nanny Bot. Steve's hand was still down the front of his pants, and Steve's mouth was still attached to his neck. “Just let me call Nanny—?”

 

Steve bit harshly on his pulse point. “No, no more Nanny Bot, remember?” He tsk'd. “See you later.” And the mischievous grin on Steve's face told Tony that the fact that Maria had woken up was hardly an accident. “Night, Tony.” Another chaste kiss to his cheek and his husband was gone, leaving him with their sleepy and upset baby girl.

 

Cursing Steve's name to Asgard and back, Tony steeled himself for a long night of no sleep.


End file.
